


Past Nights

by yujacheong



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Age Difference, Anonymous Sex, Bottom Anakin Skywalker, First Time, M/M, Moral Ambiguity, The Master Has Issues, Time Travel Fix-It, Top Obi-Wan Kenobi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:14:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22269235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yujacheong/pseuds/yujacheong
Summary: Obi-Wan gets a second chance with Anakin at a crucial moment in Anakin's personal development.The portal was probably Sith-made, an ancient, long-forgotten artefact of the dark side, but the Force had nonetheless guided him, a Jedi Master, here.Summonedhim, in fact. And it continued calling out to Obi-Wan as he approached, practically a voice inside of his head, deafeningly loud and impossible to ignore – insisting that he pass beneath that rune-inscribed, ebon arch and through the portal.If he’d been in a better, clearer state of mind he might not have complied. But as he was, hurting and heartsore from the loss of his brother and his best friend, he had not the will to resist. He passed through the gate without hesitation or the slightest peep of protest.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 5
Kudos: 299
Collections: Past Imperfect Future Unknown 2019





	Past Nights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [badritual](https://archiveofourown.org/users/badritual/gifts).



There were stories of Jedi who travelled through time. They’d been told to Obi-Wan in the creche, but until now they’d been just that – _stories_.

Well, they weren’t just stories any longer.

He’d vanquished Anak – no, _Darth Vader_ – on Mustafar, yes, but winning that duel hadn’t felt like a victory. It’d felt…he didn’t know what to feel. Everything was too raw. And so, he wandered those infernal lava fields in a daze, grief looming just out of sight, ready to crush him to atoms if he let it, and that was how he stumbled on the portal.

The portal was probably Sith-made, an ancient, long-forgotten artefact of the dark side, but the Force had nonetheless guided him, a Jedi Master, here. _Summoned_ him, in fact. And it continued calling out to Obi-Wan as he approached, practically a voice inside of his head, deafeningly loud and impossible to ignore – insisting that he pass beneath that rune-inscribed, ebon arch and through the portal.

If he’d been in a better, clearer state of mind he might not have complied. But as he was, hurting and heartsore from the loss of his brother and his best friend, he had not the will to resist. He passed through the gate without hesitation or the slightest peep of protest.

It was just as unpleasantly hot and dark on the other side of the portal. But the quality of the atmosphere was different – humid and dank where Mustafar was dangerously arid, reeking of rubbish and excrement where Mustafar was acrid sulphur and brimstone. There were people everywhere as well, a hundred hundred different species of sentient being, all of them either thuggish or simply beaten down.

This was a slum. One of the Coruscanti Lower Levels. He was sure of it. Obi-Wan was more familiar with these wretched hives of scum and villainy than he ordinarily cared to admit. But how – why – ?

He caught a snippet of HoloNet broadcast, audible through the open door of a cantina: “Senator Abeth Gracie has been duly elected to the Galactic Senate, the first Zeltron in 127 years to represent – ”

How odd. Senator Gracie’s upset election was very old news. On impulse, Obi-Wan hailed a random passerby. “Pardon me, sir, would you be so kind as to provide me with today’s date?”

The Ithorian’s grunted reply left Obi-Wan staggered: This was the past. Years past, when Anakin was still Obi-Wan’s Padawan learner. His instincts told him it was true. Further, he actually remembered this particular date specifically; it was not one of his most joyful memories as Anakin’s Master. This was the day that he had caught Anakin –

Oh. _Oh._ Of course. The taproom in question was less than a block away.

He was inside before he’d even realized he’d decided to go. It was as he remembered: a maze-like warren of stalls, cushions, and curtained-off areas, all designed to facilitate anonymous, no-strings-attached sexual encounters. And as for Anakin… Anakin… He was…

“You – you’re – ” Obi-Wan breathed.

His back was turned to Obi-Wan, and even from behind he looked so _young_. Unscarred, four limbs intact. And tall, already taller than Obi-Wan, but still slim, his shoulders yet to fill out.

Obi-Wan remembered having grabbed Anakin by that slim shoulder and dragged him out of the taproom and back to the Temple, lecturing him the entire journey home about the impropriety of his actions, about the disrepute he was bringing the Order. _Sexual desire is a natural part of human adolescent development_ , he’d said, _but emphatically_ not _one to which you need succumb. I expect you to be better, young Padawan._

Anakin had accused him bitterly of being an old fart and kept his distance from Obi-Wan for weeks afterward. Had that been the beginning of the breakdown of their relationship? Probably – and how it pained him to admit that!

Now, though, in this present, Obi-Wan reached with one hand to yank down a curtain and cover his head and shoulders with it, to conceal his identity. And with the other hand, he reached out to grab Anakin’s shoulder –

And pull him into an ardent embrace.

Anakin did not recognize him…and he did not resist, either.

If he’d stopped to consider, or if he’d been asked, Obi-Wan would’ve said that Anakin would be the type to treat sex as a competition for dominance, that he would want to fight Obi-Wan, to bite and struggle and roll, to mount Obi-Wan with violence, to claim Obi-Wan’s body with his own and thereby claim absolute victory in their sexual encounter.

The reality couldn’t have been more different. Instead of struggling against him, Anakin melted into him, soft and yielding and yearning sweetly to be touched. Everything about him was submissive; even his presence in the Force seemed faint and withdrawn, his natural senses so closed off that he did not even recognize his own Master.

“Do you – do you want – ?” Obi-Wan started.

“Yesssss,” Anakin hissed. He still didn’t recognize him. “Everything you have to give.”

He was hard and leaking profusely when Obi-Wan reached into his trousers, and he squeezed his eyes shut and threw his head back, Adam’s apple bobbing, throat vulnerable and bared for kissing, when Obi-Wan stroked him.

Indeed, the more Obi-Wan attempted to control the encounter, the more Anakin seemed eager to submit.

By the time Obi-Wan had him laid out on his back, knees bent and legs open like the wings of a flutterfly, ready to take the hard tip of Obi-Wan’s cock, desperate to be joined, Anakin had twice painted his shuddering, heaving belly with come. Obi-Wan buried himself deep and thrust wildly, on and on and on. When he finally poured himself into Anakin, he was howling – anguish and ecstasy intermingled until he couldn’t distinguish the difference anymore.

Anakin did recognize him after they were finished. It didn’t take long. He was not dismayed in the slightest, however. Instead, he cuddled more snugly into Obi-Wan’s arms. “When’ll you be ready to go again, old man?” he asked, teasing.

“I’m still your Master, Anakin,” Obi-Wan said reprovingly. His cock twitched anyway.

“Yes, Master.” Anakin smirked; he’d felt that twitch.

Obi-Wan had failed Anakin when he’d started ignoring his needs, compelled him to seek sexual release elsewhere. As for how _that_ had ended…the stench of smouldering flesh, rage and death on Mustaf – no, he wouldn’t – couldn’t! – dwell on it. By some miracle of the Force, he’d been given a second chance, lessons learnt, years of war wiped from his body. If he kept Anakin close, maybe this time he wouldn’t fail. Obi-Wan would make sure of it.

“OK, I’m ready to go again,” he announced.


End file.
